


futures that all might start someday

by tattooedsiren



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Angst, Happy Ending, Longing, M/M, Post Season 2, Season/Series 02, So much angst, brief Mike/Lola, but stick with it and i promise it'll be worth it, moving forward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 18:31:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattooedsiren/pseuds/tattooedsiren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even as Mike was saying the words he knew it was a mistake. There is no going back from something like that, but maybe that's what he wanted, that self destruction, a final <i>fuck you</i> to Harvey and the world at large. Intellectually and with the wisdom of distance Mike knows he should've done anything other than tell Rachel, that maybe his relationship with Harvey would've been salvageable had it not been for this one last thing. But now he knows that there is no way back from this.<br/>That's it. It's all over. He has officially lost everything he cares about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	futures that all might start someday

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another in the 'Mike's secret gets found out/Mike gets fired/Mike quits' sub-genre which I have written a crazy amount of fic for. One day I _will_ stop writing these fics.
> 
> Something to be aware of before reading: Since it's never explicitly stated how long has elapsed in canon (to be honest I'm convinced even the writers don't know) for the purposes of this fic the events of the pilot occurred in June 2011 and the season two finale occurred in February 2012. Just something to keep in mind throughout the fic.
> 
> Title comes from a song by Josh Groban called, appropriately enough, If I Walk Away.
> 
> A big thank you to smartalli for being my sounding board/beta/fountain of knowledge for all things American/queen of contractions etc etc. I can't even begin to enumerate everything she did for me with this fic. Seriously. I can be the absolute worst sometimes and she somehow manages to put up with me and I don't know how but I love her for it. :O)

For the first time in his ten month tenure at Pearson Hardman, Mike calls in sick.

He knows it's weak and cowardly, but he doesn't know what else to do. He can't face them, any of them, but most especially Harvey and Rachel.

His mind just keeps replaying it, over and over again - Harvey's face in the bathroom, telling him he wasn't the best lawyer he'd ever seen, that look of hurt and betrayal covering every inch of his expression, the words 'you're fired' now running through his head like a mantra. And when he isn't thinking about Harvey he's thinking about Rachel, her face when he told her the truth, the feel of her hand slapping against his skin, her confusion and hurt as she re-dressed in the file room, walking away without another word.

He can't believe things spiralled out of control so fast. It feels like in just a matter of hours he's lost two of the most important people in his life. And he has already lost so much this last year. You'd think it would get easier, that it would hurt less as time wore on. But it doesn't. It hurts more.

He honestly doesn't know what to do. He sits in bed all day long, staring at the walls, wondering how the fuck he can possibly fix this. 

He should be too smart for this. He should never have gotten into this kind of situation. For someone with an IQ as high as he has he sure has a singular talent for getting himself into downward spirals and situations that had no escape.

What hurts most of all is that he'd only wanted to help Harvey. Even though he originally told Jessica no, even though he was saving himself from being reported to the Bar, the only reason he eventually gave in was because he thought it would ultimately get Harvey what he wanted: his name on the door. 

Only not only did that not happen, he lost Harvey's trust, he almost lost his job, he ruined his relationship with Harvey (possibly forever) and then because he was spiralling and dizzy from what happened with Harvey he did literally the stupidest thing imaginable and told Rachel.

Even as he was saying the words he knew it was a mistake. There is no going back from something like that, but maybe that's what he wanted, that self destruction, a final _fuck you_ to Harvey and the world at large. Intellectually and with the wisdom of distance Mike knows he should've done anything other than tell Rachel, that maybe his relationship with Harvey would've been salvageable had it not been for this one last thing. But now he knows that there is no way back from this.

That's it. It's all over. He has officially lost everything he cares about.

 

 

 

 

It takes all day for Mike to gather the courage to face Harvey.

He drags himself out of bed, showers and dresses slowly. He feels so lethargic, and more than a little scared over what's about to happen. But he knows this isn't something he can put off forever, and more than anything, he owes Harvey this.

The cab ride over feels like it takes forever and yet when he arrives at Harvey's building he feels like he's arrived too soon. He's so not ready for this. But he breathes deep and steady as he makes his way upstairs, and when Harvey opens the door to him he's surprised when Harvey doesn't immediately slam it closed again.

The look of anger, however, is completely expected.

"What do you want, Mike?" Harvey asks.

He stands there, body blocking the entrance to his apartment, and Mike can't help but think about all the other times they've shown up unannounced and uninvited at each other's places, how they would just barge straight in regardless, and now not only is Harvey not letting him in, but Mike isn't forcing him to either. It's like that very first time, when Mike showed up here drunk, and Harvey just scowled and closed the door in his face. It's another manifestation of all that lost trust and time. Here they are, back where they started.

"We need to talk."

"I'm not interested," Harvey replies, and this time he does try and close the door in Mike's face.

But Mike saw it coming, and he blocks the door before Harvey can close it. "Harvey, there's something I have to tell you," he reiterates, the guilt and anxiety finally bleeding through.

Harvey can obviously sense the significance of this statement, and with an expression Mike has seen far too many times before (where he's already disappointed with Mike and bracing himself for further stupidity) he walks back inside, leaving the door open for Mike to trail in after him.

Mike can feel his hands shaking as he walks into Harvey's condo. He tries not to think about all the other times he's walked into this room. He doesn't succeed.

"What is it, Mike?" Harvey asks when they halt in the lounge. His voice is so cold that Mike practically shivers with it. He's been on the receiving end of many an emotion from Harvey, but never once, not even at the lowest point in their relationship, has Harvey ever addressed Mike with such detachment, like he is so far beneath Harvey's notice.

And he thought this was going to be hard before.

"I told Rachel our secret. And then we slept together."

He expects Harvey to rage and yell and swear. He expects to see throbbing veins and a hard, pursed mouth. All he gets is Harvey's sigh of resignation as he sits down on the sofa.

He looks at Mike for a moment, then eventually says, "What do you want me to say, Mike?"

"I don't know," Mike replies, genuinely bewildered, thrown by this unexpected reaction. "Maybe a plan for what to do next?"

"There is no plan. There can't be. You did the _one thing_ I told you _not_ to do. There's no going back from this."

"But-" Mike stammers, for once at a loss for words. "So, what? That's it? You're giving up?"

"I'm saying that this is a situation _entirely_ of your own making. And I warned you - if you kept making shitty decisions, that I would hang you out to dry. You did this. You can deal with the consequences."

"Do you even want to know _why_ I told her? I told her because-"

"I don't care. Whatever your reasons, I just can't care anymore, Mike. I am so fucking exhausted of all the shit you've pulled. I thought you betraying me to Jessica was the last straw but this is-"

"I didn't betray you, Harvey! I was trying to help you."

"By selling me out?"

"I was trying to help you get your name on the door, like you've always wanted." Mike protests, because despite everything that's happened, he _did_ have Harvey's best interests at heart. 

And Harvey scoffs, voice finally starting to rise in anger. "Why does everyone think I need their help to get my name on the door? I don't, okay? I don’t need your help. That's not how our relationship works."

"And how does it work?" Mike asks, despite how scared he is of the answer. Because this is it. He needs to know what the fuck Harvey is thinking, how Harvey feels about him, and he thinks that in this moment he might actually get an answer.

Harvey's voice is so hard when he replies, "You do what I tell you and keep your nose out of my business."

Mike recoils, actually physically takes a step back, puts more distance between them (at least, more of the physical kind, there is already more than enough of the emotional kind). "I can't do that, Harvey," he says, because it's true. He can't. Mike cares too much now (in truth he cared too much about Harvey from the outset), but after this last year, there's no one he cares for more than Harvey. He can't undo all those feelings and, even more importantly, he can't pretend that they aren't there.

"Which goes to show why we can't work together anymore."

Mike can't believe it. He knew it was bad, knew this was the worst place he and Harvey had ever been, but this… 

"You can't mean that," he says feebly, hoping more than believing it to be true.

"I do," Harvey says, and Mike knows him too well. He knows that Harvey means it.

"So what does this mean?" Mike asks, mind spinning. He's never felt more confused, more alone. "Do you want me to leave Pearson Hardman?"

Harvey doesn't say anything. He just stares Mike down, and the stillness of the room is so overwhelming he can practically hear the blood racing through his veins. It takes a moment for Mike to interpret Harvey's silence and when he does the realization hits him hard in the chest.

"Holy shit. You do. You want me to leave."

Harvey shrugs, uncaring. "Stay or leave, I really don't give a fuck. But as for the rest of it, you and I, we're through."

Mike's never put much thought into the whole _fight vs flight_ thing, but he feels the weight of it in this moment, torn between wanting to flee from Harvey's cold and disapproving glare and needing to stay and fight, to try and fix this. He wants to throw up. He wants to undo every action that got him to this point. He wants to cross the room and shake Harvey and just get him to _understand_.

"Harvey," Mike says, and it doesn't even sound like him, voice completely raw and wrecked. " _Please_. We need to make this better. _I need_ to make this better."

And Harvey finally stands. He looks Mike right in the eye, sighs sadly, and says, "You can't. Just go. I don't want to see you again."

It's the last of Harvey's orders that Mike will ever follow.

 

 

 

 

When Mike enters the Pearson Hardman (or whatever the fuck they are called these days) building, he braces himself, eyes continually scanning the room, waiting for the inevitable attack.

It's strange. He's never been legitimate, but until this moment, he never really _felt_ like a fraud. But he feels it now. He looks around, sees everyone blissfully going about their own business, and he can't help but wait for the inevitable blow. Because Harvey doesn't want anything to do with him and Rachel knows the truth and Jessica didn't fire him (and he tries not to wonder why the hell she saved him when Harvey tried to fire him – because really, he thought she would've jumped at the chance to get rid of him) but he fully anticipates that she will change her mind and sooner or later he'll be gone.

He sits at his cubicle, boots up his computer, but he hasn't even logged in before the anticipation becomes too much and he's up off his chair and walking across the floor.

He knocks on the glass door and Rachel looks up, her face contorting into myriad expressions (in the first three seconds alone he catches anger, surprise, embarrassment, remorse and disgust). He walks in without being invited and shuts the door behind him.

He can't help but think of the other night, the way they had come together, the anger and lust and the inevitable implosion after all the ups and downs since they had met. So, "I'm sorry," are the first words out of his mouth. And he is. He's sorry for lying to her all this time, for beating a system that held her back, for not being better, but most of all for using her after everything that happened with Harvey earlier that day.

"I don't care," she says, and yeah, Mike figures he deserves that.

"Have you told anyone?" he asks, and he immediately thereafter feels like the biggest asshole for focusing on the confession and not the sex part of the evening's events, but it's too late now anyway.

"I made an appointment with Jessica this afternoon to tell her."

He doesn't blame her. Honestly. Out of every employee at Pearson Hardman Rachel is the one who has the most reason to be upset by his deception. He doesn't begrudge her attempt at revenge at all.

"She already knows," Mike says, and he can see Rachel doesn't understand, so he gives her a very abridged version of who knows what.

"So," Rachel says when he's said his piece, "Harvey, Jessica and Donna _all_ know?"

Mike nods. He adds Rachel to his list of accomplices (because that's what they are – he is committing fraud and if anyone outside the firm found out they would all be implicated) and suddenly he knows what he needs to do.

"But you don’t have to worry about it. Because I'm going to quit."

He can tell he's surprised her. In truth, he surprised himself. But he just can't do this anymore. It's not fair to put all these people in danger. It's not fair to be doing the job that Rachel can't. It's not fair that he can't work with Harvey anymore.

"Really?" she says, scepticism thick in her tone.

Mike nods, sitting forward in his chair. "Look, Rachel, I'm sorry, okay. About everything. But especially about the other night. I like you, you know I do. I really like you. But I know that after this, you could never trust me enough for us to be together, and I don't blame you. Our timing has never quite worked out, and I wish things could've been different. But we could never last, and I think deep down we've both always known it. So. I'm going to see Jessica, and after I walk out of here, you'll never have to see me again."

She just stares at him. He can see her eyes bright with unshed tears as she keeps his gaze, but she doesn't protest. With one last nod and deep breath he stands and walks away.

His name on her lips stops him before he's left her office. It's harder than it should be, to look back at her, but he forces his gaze to hers.

"Good luck," she says softly, and he smiles sadly at her before walking away.

 

 

 

 

He can't believe he's going to do this.

And yet he can, because he's going to, and a part of him always knew this couldn't last forever. That part of him did think it wouldn't be so soon though. That part of him hoped he would have years, maybe even decades, before he was inevitably torn from this life.

Instead he lasted a total of ten months.

It was the most transformative, eventful, important ten months of his life. He had lost and gained so much. But now it was over.

He hovers outside Jessica's doorway and it doesn't take long for her to call him in. He walks into her office, and when she waves an arm he sits in the chair opposite the sofa on which she is sitting.

"What can I do for you, Mike?"

"I came to give you my resignation, effective immediately," he says, and all the nerves and uncertainty finally leave him. For the first time in days (weeks, months) he feels calm. He feels _relieved_.

He can tell she's surprised but she is also one of the best lawyers he's ever met and she schools her features within nanoseconds. 

She seems to consider her words for a moment before saying, "When I found out the truth about you, I wanted you gone. But Harvey fought for you. He convinced me to let you stay-"

"Blackmailed, you mean," Mike interrupts, and the receiving glare he gets makes him wish he hadn’t.

Jessica just ignores his outburst and continues. "He convinced me to let you stay, and I understand why. You're smart, you have a lot of potential here. I know things have been tough lately, for all of us, but you don't have to go."

Mike can't believe he's on the receiving end of this speech. Though he wouldn't exactly call this her fighting for him to stay, she's giving him the chance to reconsider his resignation, and given everything that's happened in the last year (and really, how to even begin to enumerate _everything_ at this point…), he wouldn't blame her in the least for jumping for joy at his leaving.

"Yeah, I really do," Mike tells her. And it's the truth. He can't be here anymore.

Jessica regards him for a few moments, then averts her eyes and asks softly, "Is this because of Harvey?"

Mike doesn't reply, can't even look at her, and his evasion seems to be more than enough of an answer for her.

"He'll get over it," she says.

He should listen to her. He really wants to listen to her. He wants to hold on tight to any glimmer of hope that says he and Harvey can be okay again. And though he would never claim to know Harvey better than someone who has been in his life for decades, he doesn't think it’s a lie to say he knows him pretty well, to say he knows him _differently_ than Jessica or Donna or anyone else. And he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that Harvey won't get over it, and even if he did, things would never be the same again. Their relationship has been permanently changed because of this, and there is no going back.

"No, he won't," he tells her, because she doesn't understand just how deeply Harvey's hurt goes. She can't know about how they trusted each other so implicitly from the moment they met and now that's broken. She doesn't understand how much Harvey means to him, and how the loss of his friendship (and fuck Harvey and his protests, Mike will always believe that they _were_ friends) will change him irrevocably. "Harvey brought me into this life. I literally would not be here if it wasn't for him. And I don't want to be here without him."

He knows that Jessica can see that he's serious, and she nods, accepting Mike's resignation.

Mike stands, and she does too. He steps forward and shakes her hand, says, "Thanks for everything. I'm sorry for putting you in this position and being in any way dangerous for your firm."

She just smirks at him. "No, you're not," she says, eyes twinkling with laughter.

And Mike can admit that he doesn't regret it enough that if he had the chance to do it all again, he'd probably do it the exact same way (apart from, you know, selling out Harvey and telling Rachel their secret before sleeping with her), but that doesn't mean he isn't sorry for a lot of the other stuff too.  
"Good luck, Mike."

"You too," he replies, before leaving the office.

 

 

 

 

He goes back to his cubicle to grab his things, packing up the only personal item he has (a picture of him and Grammy he keeps in the second drawer of his desk) and walking away without a word to any of the associates.

He thinks about it for a good twenty seconds, weighing his options, before he decides to detour to Harvey's office. His chest constricts the closer he gets, but releases when he sees the office is empty. He doesn't know if he feels relieved or saddened by this.

He turns his attention to Donna, and smiles. Though they had a bit of a rough time during the whole 'destroyed memo' debacle, he still likes her, respects her, and appreciates everything she does for Harvey.

He leans on her cubicle for one last time and says, "I came to say goodbye."

Donna doesn't even look up from her computer, continues typing as she says, "It's eight am - boss man won't be happy to hear about you skipping out this early."

Mike's brow furrows with confusion and holy shit, Harvey hasn't told her. Anything. Not about Harvey trying to fire him, or about the reason for Mike's absence yesterday, or what happened with Rachel or the fight they had last night. Nothing. Mike doesn't know what this means (how Harvey hasn't told her, how she hasn't figured anything out for herself), but it has to mean _something_ , right?

If it does, he can't figure it out.

Donna seems content to just keep working, so he pulls out his staff ID card and places it on her desk. She finally looks up at him then, and he repeats, "I came to say goodbye."

"What?" she asks, her face falling with realization. She stands and winds her way around the cubicle walls to stand in front of him. "Explain."

"I just gave my resignation to Jessica. I'm leaving."

"What happened?"

But Mike just feels so _tired_ , and he can't go through this again. So he sighs and says, not a little bitterly, "Ask Harvey."

He tries to walk away, but she blocks his path. "I'm asking you," she insists. Because she's Donna - of course she won't give up.

"Look, let's just say I made some mistakes, and the only way to atone is to leave."

"Does Harvey know about this?" she asks, because she always seems to know how to get right to the heart of the matter.

"No. But I'm sure Jessica will tell him when he gets here."

"I'm calling him," she says, making to reach over the cubicle wall to the phone, but Mike reaches out a hand to stop her before she can.

"Don’t. Donna, please. Harvey will tell you everything when he gets here. He might not know about this, but believe me when I say he won't be surprised when he finds out."

Donna looks at him, concern clear on her face. "Mike, _what happened_?"

But Mike just needs to leave. Every second he lingers here he risks running in to Harvey, and he can't, he _can't_ see him after last night. He just needs to get out of here.

So Mike smiles, leaning over and kissing her cheek. "Do me a favor? Look after him," he says, eyes inadvertently flicking to Harvey's office.

Donna nods, smiles softly at him. "I always do."

He gives her one last hug, and this time when he tries to leave, she lets him go.

 

 

 

 

When he gets home, the first thing he does it take his suit off, right in the entryway of his apartment. The second thing he does is collapse on the couch and cover his face with his hands and try with all his might not to cry.

He can't believe it's finally real. He had always known this day would come, but it was always placed in a vague future, one of those things you know is going to occur you just don't know when. Like Mike always thought he would get married and have kids and it's just there, waiting in his future for him to catch up to. His leaving Pearson Hardman was always looming in his future, but he thought it was much further away, actually after the marriage and kids thing, only real life decided not to play by his rules and here he was, alone and unemployed.

He can't stay here like this. He knows he could sit here and wallow all day and send himself spiralling even further. And it's tempting, but he just doesn’t want to think about it anymore. He doesn’t want to relive the last forty-eight hours, he doesn't want to think about the future, he doesn’t want to sit there and have his mind focus on every little thing he's done wrong, every step that he wishes he could undo to have this whole thing never happen.

So he does everything he's been putting off because he never had any time. He cleans the whole apartment, from top to bottom. He washes all his clothes and sheets and remakes the bed. He pays all his bills. He goes grocery shopping, coming back with enough food to stock his near empty fridge and pantry. He catches up on his completely full DVR.

And when it's time to go to bed, he sleeps for nearly twelve hours straight.

 

 

 

 

In the morning, Mike can't put off reality crashing down around him.

He has no job. He has no income. He checks his phone with nothing but a fool's hope that Harvey or Rachel (or maybe Donna or Jessica, or hell, even Louis) has tried to contact him. But there are no missed calls. 

He has no friends.

It's a weird feeling, to know that you've burnt every bridge, destroyed every good thing in your life. He'd never felt like an orphan until Grammy passed, but even then he hadn't felt alone because he had Harvey.

Now he has nothing.

Fuck it, he is going to wallow today. He figures he deserves it, deserves one day to mourn the loss of everything he held dear. He is going to stay in bed all day and eat crappy food and drink whatever he wants and cry and be angry with the world.

And tomorrow, he is going to sort his life out.

 

 

 

 

Despite the hangover, Mike determines to get out of bed and start working on his new life. And the first thing he decides to do is move out of his apartment.

There are too many memories here now. Memories of Grammy and Trevor and Jenny and Tess and Rachel and Harvey and it feels like this space doesn't even belong to him anymore. It's the vault which keeps their memory locked up, and Mike can't live right in the middle of it. Because he looks at the couch and sees him and Trevor, beer bottles in hand, yelling at the TV as the Mets bomb out. He looks at the bed and he can see him and Jenny, lounging in the sheets, soft morning light streaming through the window. He looks at his kitchen table and he sees him and Harvey, sharing secrets they'd never told anyone else, Harvey's face relaxed and open.

He can't stay here.

The first option that springs to mind is the apartment he bought for Grammy, but he only considers it for about five seconds before deciding to sell it. Because, as great as the apartment is, and despite the fact Grammy never saw it, he knows that he would always be haunted by the memory of that day, standing in the empty room, the disbelief rolling through his body at Rachel's words.

So he resolves to sell the apartment and move somewhere completely new. As tasks go it's a pretty good one. He can occupy his days by organizing the sale of Grammy's apartment, looking at new apartments, packing up his belongings into a million boxes.

Turns out, finding the new place is easier than he anticipated and the packing up of his apartment was just as hard as he imagined it would be. Mike finds an apartment in the same neighborhood, actually only a few blocks away. It's slightly bigger than his current place, though not by much, and it has the added bonus of an actual separate bedroom.

But packing up everything, deciding what to keep and what to throw, makes everything so real in a way nothing else really has. It's that final door closing, proof that there's no going back, proof that he is moving on in every sense of the word.

 

 

 

 

It's been two weeks since he left Pearson Hardman. He hasn't heard from anyone (although if he's honest not hearing from Harvey is all that really matters) and every day it's starting to feel more and more like something he had created in his mind, a dream so vivid he's convinced it was real.

Mike is logging on to his online banking to organize payment for his new place when he notices that his account balance is considerably higher than he expected. As in, he has to blink a few times to make sure he isn't imagining that his last pay is fifty thousand dollars higher than it should be.

Once the shock wears off he takes the payoff (from Jessica) with the spirit with which it was intended: _thanks for all your hard work, good luck with your future, I never want to see you back here again._

Like she even has to worry about that.

He stares at his bank balance. It's the most money he's ever had in his whole life, and if he continues to live frugally (and he basically lived the same way whether he was scraping by on odd jobs and LSAT tests or when he was earning $180k a year), he doesn't have to worry too much about running out of money any time soon.

Which means, for the first time in as long as he can remember, he's free to do as he chooses. His whole life he's had a lot of his choices taken away from him. Some of them were admittedly his own fault (like the whole being kicked out of school and his life plan falling apart thing), and he never for one second begrudged his financial commitment to Grammy or considered her in any way a burden. But for the first time, the whole world is open to him. He has the time and the means and the freedom to do what he wants.

Now he just has to decide what that is.

 

 

 

 

Mike sells Grammy's apartment at a break even rate. He never cared about making anything on it, just wanted to sell it as soon as possible and recover all his costs. He pays out the lease on his current place, signs the lease on the new apartment, and boxes up every possession he wants to take with him.

Moving day finally arrives, and Mike wakes genuinely excited. The movers will be here at ten, so the first thing he does is shower, and when dressed he packs up all the last minute stuff (the bed sheets, some clothes and toiletries, food and kitchenware). When he checks his phone just before ten he sees he has a missed call.

It's from Harvey.

Mike nearly drops the phone in surprise. He stares at the notification, willing it to make sense. But it doesn't. Because Mike has been gone for over a month and Harvey's never called before and he just can't reconcile it.

The timestamp indicates that Harvey called when he was in the shower, and Mike's thankful for small mercies, because honestly, if he'd seen Harvey calling he doesn’t know if he would've wanted to answer or not. He's glad the decision was taken out of his hands.

There's no voicemail, and Mike doesn't call back. The movers arrive with impeccable timing and the day is spent moving into the new apartment and unpacking everything and shopping to restock the fridge and he doesn’t have to think about Harvey and that fucking missed call.

And it's just so like Harvey, to pick today of all days to call. Because it's been a month and Mike finally feels like he is moving on. He misses Harvey, of course he does, feels his absence like a hole in his chest every single day. But Harvey basically cut him off, and even though he wishes things had ended differently, as much as he wants the whole thing to have never happened so he could still be at Pearson Hardman by Harvey's side, it _did_ happen. And Mike is self aware enough to admit that he was kind of scarred by the whole thing, and he doesn't want Harvey ripping open his wounds.

So, after a blissfully peaceful night's sleep in his new apartment, the first thing he does the next morning is change his number.

 

 

 

 

His whole life, Mike's wanted to be a lawyer. If he'd known then what he knows now, maybe he would've chosen a different career to obsess over. 

Because he can never be a lawyer now, not ever again, and he is twenty-eight years old with no education and no career goals and barely any work experience that isn't illegal.

He spends a solid week going over different options, trying to decide whether he should go back to school, actually give college a proper shot, or whether he should just try and find some entry level work and work his way up that way.

He soon realizes that his time at Pearson Hardman has essentially ruined him, and he wouldn't be happy at some low level position. He wants more, wants to be tested and engaged. He wants a career and not just a job.

With that decision made, it's just a matter of deciding how he wants to spend the rest of his life, so, a small decision really. He considers his strengths, his interests and passions. He thinks about teaching, loves the idea of imparting knowledge onto impressionable minds. He considers journalism, because he's loved to write ever since he was young, and he likes the idea of investigating and looking for those small but important details and educating the masses with what he finds. He thinks about medicine, the possibility of saving lives, bringing relief to people, to just being able to _help_. 

But what he ultimately wants is psychology. Because he's intrigued by the way the mind works (how could he not be with a mind like his?), is fascinated by the different ways people behave and what exactly makes people tick, wants to help people and loves the idea of helping others rebuild their lives, like he is attempting to right now.

He applies for multiple courses across multiple colleges - he's not an idiot - and hopes for the best.

 

 

 

 

Mike approaches the application task with a near unprecedented zeal. He vaguely recalls this process from a decade earlier, the forms and essays, and it should make him feel like he's regressed to his eighteen year old self, but on the contrary, it makes him feel empowered.

He's been distracting himself by focusing on the move and everything that went with it, but in those other hours when he found himself with an abundance of time and nothing to do to fill it, he had longed for some kind of goal, something to keep him focused like his work used to. He's gone through every DVD he owns, re-read his favorite books, cleaned his apartment on a near daily basis - anything to fill the hours so he doesn't sit there and angst over everything he's lost.

(Even though he sometimes does that anyway.)

So yes, he throws all his energy into his applications. His essays are a thing of beauty (if he does say so himself) and it feels so good to be working again, using his brain for something worthwhile. He'd missed it, actually using his mind and trying to think of the best way to frame an argument and figuring out how to persuade someone to his intentions. He loves playing with that line between what's true and what isn't, what statements he can make and get away with, refuses to lie outright but gets as creative as he can.

He starts to feel alive again.

 

 

 

 

With his focus being on the college applications, it takes until early afternoon for Mike to remember.

One year.

One year ago today Mike started at Pearson Hardman.

He had gotten pretty good at compartmentalizing, at not thinking about what happened. Distractions had been the order of the day, and it had worked well, stopped him from dwelling on what was, what could've been.

But the realization that it's been exactly one year has a crushing effect on him. He can't stop his mind from imagining what would've happened if he'd still been working with Harvey. He probably would've bought him some kind of gag gift, presented in flowery paper with a 'happy anniversary' card, just to get an eye-roll and smirk out of the older man. And he would have. Harvey would've given Mike shit for it, but he still would've opened the present, kept whatever Mike had given him.

And maybe they would've gone for dinner or drinks after work. Harvey wouldn't have made a big deal of it, definitely wouldn't say it was in celebration of twelve months coming and going. He would've just dropped by Mike's cubicle at the end of the day and tilted his head, and Mike would've stood and followed wherever Harvey lead.

And suddenly Mike can't _breathe._

He wants it back so badly, misses that every day ease the two of them had. He hasn't allowed himself to think about Harvey too much in the last couple of months because he knew nothing good would come of it. And it's stupid, to be grieving the loss of someone who when asked would say they were boss and subordinate and that's it, grieving more than he mourned the loss of his last two girlfriends. He and Harvey didn't "break up". He didn't get his heart broken (okay, maybe he did), he shouldn’t be missing him like a phantom limb (but he really does). He misses him so much it vibrates throughout his body, makes him antsy and confused, and he just needs to get out.

Mike barely has the presence of mind to grab some essentials as he practically runs out the door, and he just keeps going. He's never been much of a jogger (biking was always his exercise of choice), but he can't stop, doesn't want to stop and think and hurt. He listens to his ipod, tries to drown out the world at large, just focuses on the road ahead as he pounds the pavement.

But twenty minutes into his run his ipod decides that of the four thousand songs he has it should play Herbie Hancock and Mike immediately comes to a dead halt in the middle of the sidewalk, breathless and panting and so fucking overwhelmed. He's besieged with memories of late nights in Harvey's office, the two of them lounged on the couch, the city sparkling below as they worked through their case, Harvey's music softly filling the room. 

He can't take it anymore.

When he starts running again this time it's with purpose. He jogs to his old neighborhood, visits an old acquaintance, and arrives home minutes later with two thick joints in hand.

He quickly showers and changes, collapsing onto the couch, rolling a joint back and forth between his fingertips. Drugs have been so pivotal in his life this last year. The drug deal that led him to the Chilton, to Harvey. Quitting for Harvey and the new job (new life) he offered. Getting high with Tom Keller, and _Harvey's face_ when he realized. Going back to them after Grammy's death. Harvey not only not scolding him for getting high but actually smoking up with him. Harvey being open with Mike, more than he'd ever really been before, spilling secrets at Mike's tiny dining table, so comfortable and more open than he'd ever been. Getting high with Tess, feeling his life spiral out of control again, hating himself for everything he did and everything he was. Finally getting clean again, wanting to prove to Harvey that he can get his shit together.

He doesn't want to go down that road again, but the desire to just not think is even greater. His head is full of Harvey and loss and he just needs it to _stop_.

"Here's to you, Harvey," Mike murmurs, lifting the joint mid-air in salute before putting it between his lips and lighting it. He eases back into the couch, takes a deep drag, and closes his eyes.

He can finally stop thinking.

 

 

 

 

Mike wakes with a foggy head, a broken heart, and a vow to never smoke up again.

 

 

 

 

With all his applications submitted, Mike's life becomes a waiting game.

He used to be quite good at waiting around, doing nothing, whiling away the hours in his apartment. But that was before. It was back when he had Trevor and the pot and no desire whatsoever to amount to anything. It was before Harvey came crashing into his life (or did he crash into Harvey's? Mike thinks arguments could be made for both). It was before everything.

And now the wait is insufferable. His life is put on hold. He can't make any major decisions about anything until he knows either way.

He thinks about getting out of the city for a while, but knows at least here he can keep himself busy as opposed to holing up in a hotel somewhere else. So he keeps to a routine, fills his days with errands and exercise and reading and he tries not to feel like he's just waiting for his life to begin.

 

 

 

 

The first offer he gets is for Journalism at NYU. 

Mike stands in the foyer of his building, letter in shaking hand, so fucking excited.

He reads through everything as he heads upstairs, walks into his apartment with a grin big enough to break his face. His head spins and he wants to scream with joy.

But then he looks up, eyes flitting around his empty apartment, and his face falls as he realizes that he has no one to share the moment with.

 

 

 

 

Mike gets offered a place at Columbia in their Psychology department, and he accepts.

His life becomes full throttle again, going through the admission process, dealing with the course payments (between his partial scholarship and the money he got from Jessica he should manage to get out the other end relatively debt free), organizing his timetable and familiarizing himself with the campus and preparing the course materials and reading his textbooks...

He feels settled again. He can't believe he missed his life being chaotic but he did, finally feels like himself again as his mind is constantly going in three directions at once.

The morning of his first class dawns warm and bright. He heads to campus, nervous but excited, manages to find his class with time to spare. And when he sits in the lecture, letting the professors words roll over him, he feels home.

 

 

 

 

The first person he speaks to outside of polite nods and 'hey's' and answering the professors questions is a girl in his Mind, Brain, and Behavior class. They've sat next to each other for the previous three weeks when one day she just turns to him mid-class and says, "Is it just me or does Bailey look exactly like Professor Lupin from Harry Potter?"

Mike looks to their professor at the front of the class, his floppy hair and tweed jacket, and he can't help bursting into laughter. The pair in the row in front of them turn and glare at him, and he quickly shuts up, turning back to her and whispering, "Oh my God, you are so right."

She smiles at him, holds out her hand. "I'm Autumn."

"Mike," he replies, shaking her hand.

After class he invites her for a coffee, and she accepts. They go to a coffee place a few blocks away and settle into a couple of chairs in the back corner.

He basically asks her for her life story, mostly because it feels so good to be having an actual conversation with someone that lasts longer than two minutes, but also because if he keeps asking her questions maybe she won't ask about him. Because when the time comes, when she asks what he did before, he doesn’t know what he'll tell her. He doesn't want to lie anymore, but doesn’t know how to begin to tell the truth.

He asks where she's from ("Northern California") and where she's living now ("Astoria") and how old she is ("late twenties, and you look like you're old enough to know better than to ask a woman her age"). He finds out about her family back in California and her boyfriend who's currently working in Vancouver ("he works in television, spends half the year in Canada and half here in New York") and her aspirations to work with underprivileged kids, maybe as an art therapist. They talk about the classes they have in common, the ones that they don't, their professors and classmates and anything else that comes to mind.

It takes nearly an hour for her to get in a question of her own. She sips at her coffee for a moment, looking thoughtfully at him before putting the mug aside. She leans forward in her chair, her legs crossed and hands clasped in her lap, and asks, "So is this you practicing to be a therapist? Keeping the focus solely on me, not volunteering any information about yourself..."

She's smiling gently at him, and he can't help but laugh. It's funny, because she _looks_ like a therapist, with her honey-colored hair cascading over her shoulder in a side plait, square glasses with dark purple rims that she's always nudging back up her nose, her completely serene and open expression.

It makes him want to tell her. He wants, just for once, for a relationship to not have a big lie hanging over it. Wants something simple and easy. But it's not only his secret to tell, and he may not have seen Harvey or anyone from Pearson Hardman in six months, but this is a secret that has no expiration date. Not to mention it's something that's been used against him before by people he trusted.

"Maybe. Maybe I just don't know how to be honest anymore," he says with a resigned shrug.

Autumn looks at him for a few moments, considering. Mike knows between his evasions during their whole time together and that last very loaded statement he has just given himself away, basically just waved a flag screaming _I have issues and secrets and I'm totally screwed up._

"Do you want to?" she asks gently.

And Mike really does. But he just can't. He avoids her gaze, hating himself for not even being able to form a casual connection with someone new without dragging everything down with his angst. He doesn't want this one thing to take over his life. He wants to move on, to be his own man again. He just doesn’t know how.

"Tell you what," Autumn says brightly, sitting back in her chair. "Just tell me one thing. Tell me one true thing about your life from this last year, and I promise not to ask again until you're ready to tell me of your own volition."

He thinks about everything that's happened in the last twelve months, all the ups and downs. He thinks about all the things he can't tell Autumn, all the lies and secrets he will forever keep. He thinks about moving forward with his life, trying to connect to someone new, figures Autumn deserves something truly real. So he tells her something he hasn't told anyone, something he tried not to acknowledge, something he didn't even realize until very recently. 

"The last place I worked, I think I fell in love with my boss."

Mike's heart beats hard in his chest as he finally admits what he never wanted to. Although he figures if he can confess to anyone it would be her, someone who knows nothing about him or his life, who won't pass his secret on to anyone Mike cares about knowing. But it's surreal, saying the words out loud.

She's smiling at him. "Wow," she says, "here I was thinking you'd tell me about where you lived or what your hobby was, but you just went straight for the good stuff, huh?"

He can't help but chuckle. He likes Autumn, how easy it feels to be around her, the way she can seemingly put up with all his eccentricities. Because he seriously just went from refusing to say anything about his life to admitting to falling in love with someone, and she's awesome enough to just go with the flow.

"Does she know?"

"He. And no, he doesn't. Things didn’t end well. I haven’t seen him in six months."

Her face is full of nothing but sympathy. She opens her mouth like she's about to say something, but seemingly changes her mind. But going with the _in for a penny, in for a pound_ mentality he quirks an eyebrow at her, silently giving her permission to ask away.

She leans forward slightly, voice low and gentle as she asks, "Do you still love him?"

Mike doesn't even need to think about it. "Yes."

 

 

 

 

Mike gets a job at a coffee shop (it's called CAU, and when asked what that stood for even the manager didn’t know), one that's close enough to campus that he can get there easily enough for his shifts after class, but far away enough that it's not full of students 24/7.

He's never done work like it, but he's good with his hands, and the memory kicks in so he can read all the instruction manuals and memorize the prices of everything in the first ten minutes, reducing the need to bother the manager training him with annoying questions. Granted, theoretical knowledge isn't the same as practical, and there is a difference between doing something and doing something _well_ , but he figures that will come with time.

Autumn comes and visits him at the end of his shift, and hers is his last drink of the day, Mike making her a latte she declares is delicious. 

"Come on you," she grins when Mike steps out from the staff room, " _Skyfall_ isn't going to watch itself."

Mike smiles, crossing the room and kissing her cheek in greeting. "Actually I'm pretty sure the movie will run with or without us."

"Spoil sport," she playfully slaps his chest, as they walk out of the shop. "So, how was your first shift?"

"Good. Although I think I need to work on my fake smile and small talk because the tips aren't what I was anticipating."

"Yeah, you are the shy and retiring type. Need to bring you back out of your shell. Come on, let's practice."

"Role play?" he deadpans. "Seriously?"

"Come on, you better get used to it, you know we're going to have plenty of these in class soon enough."

Mike doesn’t mention that he got more than enough practice with role play during his time at Pearson Hardman. They've become firm friends these last couple of months, and over that time he has told her quite a lot about his life before Columbia. But he hasn't told her anything about his tenure at Pearson Hardman, hasn't spoken about that year of his life at all. It's a black hole in the story of Mike, and though he hates keeping something that was so important and intrinsic to who he is secret, he figures it's better than the alternative.

Maybe he'll tell her one day. He hopes so, anyway.

"Ugh, fine," he agrees

Autumn smiles and says, "Okay. Here we go." And then she puts on a fake voice, high pitched and overly enthusiastic. "Hi, how are you today?"

"Hi, what can I get for you?"

"I'd like a medium half-caf no-foam non-fat vanilla soy latte please."

Mike bursts into laughter, and she joins in while simultaneously admonishing him that he can't laugh at the customers orders. 

They continue role-playing until they walk into the theatre, with Autumn coming up with as many complicated orders and annoying personas as she can imagine and insisting Mike has to be polite and charming each time.

 

 

 

 

Winter descends on New York with a flurry of snow and Christmas decorations everywhere and holiday music that is nigh on inescapable.

It's a busy month. School is ending for the year, and he picks up some extra shifts at the coffee shop. He had been warned that their patronage always increases over the colder months, and Mike figured everyone else might appreciate the time to be with their families and participate in all those holiday traditions he left behind years ago.

Plus, the money was helpful.

His last class is on December 21, but he blows it off in favor of doing the only shopping he needs to do for the holiday season (even though it's actually not Christmas related). He then spends a good hour in line at UPS, mailing Harvey's birthday present to him.

He hadn't known what to get him, only knew he couldn't _not_ get him something. He'd wandered the stores for hours (near torturous in the pre-Christmas crowds), trying to find the perfect something. Because it wasn't as if Harvey _needed_ anything, and with the added restrictions of the present needing to be something small and unbreakable for when it got hauled around the city by uncaring delivery people, it kinda narrowed the field of options.

But he's happy with his choice: a metallic blue and silver striped silk tie - the most expensive _skinny_ tie he could find.

He attaches a plain white card with _Happy Birthday, Harvey. M._ written on it and sends it off so it will arrive the next day, his actual birthday.

Mike spends the 22nd at the coffee shop, the day flying by in a mad rush of people wanting hot beverages and bemoaning the constant lines and the ringing of Christmas Carols a constant background buzz. His shift finishes at 6pm, and he's more than happy to hand over to Katie when she walks in the door. 

He heads into the staff break room, changes out of his dirty t-shirt into a clean one, and checks his phone for messages. There aren't any, but having the phone in his hand, he's overwhelmed with the desire to call Harvey.

He hadn't felt the pull so strongly in months. It's probably a combination of exhaustion and the emotions of the holiday season weakening him, but he incredibly finds himself standing in the small room and dialling Harvey's cell number from memory (though he at least has the forethought to block his outgoing number).

"Harvey Specter."

Mike can't say anything. It's been nine whole months since they had last spoken and he still sounds exactly the same and Mike can't speak.

"Hello?"

Mike's heart pounds hard in his chest and he wants to say something, is desperate to reconnect and move past everything that happened. But when he opens his mouth nothing comes out. He has no words.

The silence stretches on between them. He can hear the older man's even breathing and he wonders why Harvey hasn't just hung up already.

"Mike?"

Mike ends the call and quickly drops the phone on the table as though he had been physically burned by it. He collapses onto the nearest chair, eyes staring at the offending item, and he can't breathe. 

He's so stupid. What the fuck was he thinking? There was a reason he cut himself off from everyone, why he hasn't tried to get in contact with them this whole year. But sometimes he just misses Harvey so fucking much it's like a physical weight pressing down on his chest and he doesn't know how to make it stop. He wants - _needs_ \- it to stop. Because he can't breathe, is practically hyperventilating as the emotions crash down on him, and he doesn't know what to do.

He manages to get his breathing under control enough to shuck on his coat and throw his phone into his bag. He wipes an errant tear from his cheek before stepping out into the store, putting on a fake grin and waving at his co-workers as he leaves.

All Mike knows in this moment is that he doesn't want to be alone. So he navigates the insanely crowded subway system and heads over to Autumn's.

It's only when he's knocking on her door that he thinks it was probably a douche move showing up here unannounced three days before Christmas, that she's probably busy or not even at home. But then the door opens.

It's not Autumn.

"You must be Alistair," Mike says, recognizing him from the photo Autumn had shown him the first day they met. Mike holds out his hand. "I'm Mike. I'm Autumn's friend, from-"

"Columbia," Alistair says, nodding. He shakes Mike's hand warmly. "Good to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"Same here."

Alistair smiles, opening the door. "Come in."

Mike steps into the warm apartment, and Alistair takes his coat. He has just handed it over when Autumn walks into the room.

"Mike. Hi," she says brightly, and Mike doesn't even have time to reply before her eyes are narrowed and her whole face changes, instantly concerned. "What's wrong?"

Mike laughs mirthlessly, and he can feel the emotions prickling at his eyes. Autumn immediately crosses the room and throws her arms around him, and he can do nothing but hold on tight, burying his face into her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Mike says when she releases him. "Sorry for just turning up here. I just didn't know where else to go."

"It's okay," she says soothingly. "Come on, let's talk."

"I'll leave you two to it," Alistair says, and he shakes Mike's hand once more before slipping from the room.

"What is it?" Autumn asks as they sit on the sofa.

"Do you remember that guy I told you about, the one I used to work with?"

She nods. "Harvey."

"Right." He had told Autumn his first name, but other than the fact they used to work together and Mike had realized he was in love with him after he left, she didn't know anything else. "It's his birthday today. I called him, but when he picked up I couldn’t say anything."

"Oh, Mike," she says sadly, resting a hand on his arm.

"But you know what the weird part is? He knew it was me. I didn't say anything and I blocked my cell number and somehow he still knew it was me."

"So he was thinking about you. It was his birthday, and he was thinking about you. That's gotta be a good sign, right?"

But Mike still couldn't comprehend it. "But to what end? It's not like we can go back. You should've heard the things he said the last time we saw each other. It was…" He can't even find the words to explain how fucking heartbreaking it was hearing all those words spilling from Harvey's mouth. "I miss him. I really do. But at the same time, I'm not sure if I really want to see him again either. Does that make sense?"

Autumn nods understandingly, and he feels a surge of affection for her. He takes a deep breath, tries to calm down. "I'm sorry, I swear I'm not usually this much of a basket case over one phone call," he says, laughing to try and lighten the mood. "I'm sorry for crashing your evening. I don’t even know what I'm doing here. I guess I just didn't want to be alone."

"Hey," she says, bumping his shoulder with her own. "What are friends for?"

"Thanks. I really appreciate it."

"Come on, dinner's nearly ready. You're staying to eat it."

"No," he says, standing. "Thanks, but I don't want to intrude."

"Nonsense. Come on, I really want you and Alistair to get to know each other. Plus, I'm not convinced that if I leave you alone you won't spend the evening pranking Harvey."

Mike laughs. "Well, when you put it like that…"

 

 

 

 

Mike works what ends up being the coldest day of winter.

The shop is, unsurprisingly, practically deserted for the vast majority of the day. Even in a city as busy as New York no one wants to venture out into the bone chilling nineteen degree weather if they don't have to, and Mike is pretty sure the only people he serves all day are tourists.

At least until after lunch, when a man who looks vaguely familiar walks in. He's rugged up in a thick coat, beanie, scarf and gloves, so the only thing Mike can see is a small patch of his face between his eyes and mouth. His eyes are blue, his lips thin. He looks a few years older than Mike, and when he meets Mike's gaze he smiles warmly.

"Fuck, it's freezing out there," he says, taking off the gloves and beanie now he's inside, flakes of snow falling to the floor before melting.

Mike laughs. "Looks like it. I hope you weren't out there for too long."

"Nah. My place is only a few blocks away."

"What on earth possessed you to leave it?" Mike asks, because the only reason he got out of bed this morning was because he had to.

"My roommate and his girlfriend are driving me insane. Let's just say they were bored and I have very thin walls. I wasn't getting any work done so figured I'd come grab a drink, maybe set up shop here."

"Fair enough," Mike says, pulling a mug from the nearby bench. "Caramel macchiato, right?" he asks, ringing up the drink on the till.

"Yeah," the guy replies, surprised. "Thanks. I'm Liam, by the way."

"Mike," he replies, shaking the hand which Liam has extended. "Good to meet you."

"You too."

Liam hands over the cash (with a ridiculously large tip, and Mike smiles in gratitude when told by Liam to keep it) and Mike gets to work making his drink.

A few more customers drift in and out for the rest of his shift, but it's still mostly quiet. Mike cleans every surface he can, reorganizes all the supplies, and when no one is looking flicks through one of the complimentary newspapers and reads what's going on in the world.

When he leaves for the day Liam is still there, on his third coffee, typing away on his laptop. Mike waves, and Liam lifts his drink in a farewell salute.

 

 

 

 

"I think you need to start dating," Autumn tells him.

Mike practically does a spit take with the water he's drinking. Talk about random. He gulps the water down and levels a glare at her. Autumn doesn't look in any way disconcerted by Mike's level ten scowl. If anything, she's amused by it.

"Come on," she coaxes, "you need to get out there. Have some fun."

"I have fun!" he insists.

Autumn just gives him her best _bitch, please_ look. "When? When you're in class or buried in the library? When you're at work? When you lock yourself away in your apartment for entire weekends."

"Yes," Mike says, but it sounds stupid when she puts it like that.

The truth is, while his life isn't exactly fun, he's not discontent either. Between his life at Columbia (and all the work that comes with it) and the hours he puts in at CAU he's kept busy enough that he doesn't have time to think about all the things his life is missing. And okay, he doesn't go out partying or drinking and he doesn't date, but he finds joy in other places, like hanging with Autumn or joking around with the guys at work.

He doesn't need anything else. 

"Is this about Harvey?" Autumn asks.

"No," Mike tells her, and it's the truth. It's not about Harvey, it's about him. School and work keep him busy and occupied and even though it can be stressful at times his life has finally started to even out from all the ups and downs of the previous few years. It's a juggling act, and he's worried by adding a new element, he won't be able to keep everything going and it will all just fall apart. "I just don't think I'm ready. And besides, where am I going to meet anyone?"

Autumn scoffs. "Gee, I don't know. How about one of the thousands of people on campus? Or the hundreds of people you serve at CAU each day? Or, I know, crazy idea, but you could go to a bar and see what happens."

Mike laughs, packing up his books ready for their next class. He doesn't respond, and Autumn packs up too, so he thinks that's the end of it.

It's not. "I have this friend-"

"No," Mike says, perhaps a little too vehemently. Autumn blanches slightly, and Mike immediately feels guilty. "Sorry." He puts an arm around her shoulder as they walk to class. "Thanks, but like I said, I'm not ready. Maybe one day."

"I just want you to be happy," Autumn tells him, and Mike is so glad they met that day.

"I know."

 

 

 

 

Autumn has this way of getting under his skin about things, so even if she only mentions something once Mike feels like it keeps rattling around in his mind until he succumbs.

So in the weeks following her proclamation that he should start dating he genuinely starts to think about it, really for the first time since he left Pearson Hardman (and Rachel and Harvey). Part of him still feels like he's not ready, but he wonders if that will always be there, that maybe he just needs to put himself out there and see what happens.

He doesn't think he's ready to start going out to bars and clubs for the express purpose of meeting someone, but he tries to not be so closed off, starts flirting with some of his customers, actually talks to people other than Autumn at school (and when he sees her watching him from across the room she just winks at him in approval).

Nothing really comes of it, but it makes him feel better. It's another step in the healing process, he supposes, and it's nice to talk to and be with people again. He was always a people person, and he's missed it, getting to know people, hearing their stories, telling some of his own in return. It feels good, being surrounded by people and noise again. And even though nothing really changes, he doesn't feel quite so lonely anymore.

One day he's crossing campus when he passes the Northwest Corner Building. He's passed it a lot over his time here, but every time he sees it he will always remember it from _before_ , and he doesn't know why today is any different but for some reason he finds himself entering it.

He finds the lab easily enough, and of course there Lola is, working away like always. She looks practically the same; her hair is a little longer, but that's about the only difference. He watches her work for a few minutes before tapping on the window, opening the door as she looks up and sees him.

"Well, well, well," Lola says, pulling the plastic protective glasses from her face, "if it isn't Mr Wannabe Suit."

Mike grins. "I thought you said I wasn't the empty suit you thought I was."

Lola just laughs, crossing the room to him. "What are you doing here?"

Mike shrugs nonchalantly. "I was in the neighborhood. Thought I'd see how my favorite environmental activist slash hacker was doing."

"You were in the neighborhood," she replies skeptically. "You here for a case?"

Mike feels that pang whenever the old life is remembered, but he ignores it, shaking his head.

"Let me guess," she says, snapping her fingers. "You and Harvey need my badass skills to track down some more money."

Mike shakes his head again, and Lola starts to look confused. Her eyes rake over him, his jeans and hoodie, and he can see the penny drop.

"Oh."

Mike nods. "Yup. I, uh, I got caught."

Well, technically that wasn't true, but it was easier to sum the situation up with that simple phrase than by trying to explain the chain of events that led to his departure at Pearson Hardman.

"I'm sorry, Mike," she says, and he can tell it's genuine. 

"Yeah. Me too," he says. 

She looks him up and down once more. "So, you really _were_ just in the neighborhood?"

"I'm studying here too," he tells her.

"Studying what, the law?" she asks, and he knows she only means to tease but he can't help the stab of pain at her words. He does his best to tamp it down though, laughing through the ache.

"No, not the law."

"What then?" she asks, curious.

He takes a small step closer. "Tell you what. Let me take you to dinner tonight and I'll tell you all about it."

She smiles, wide and bright, and says, "Sure."

 

 

 

 

"Hey, man," Mike says, smiling at Liam as he approaches the counter.

"Hey, Mike," he replies genially. "What's news?"

"Not much," he replies, already starting Liam's order. He takes the bill Liam proffers and gets everything started. He has a laptop bag over his shoulder, so Mike knows he's staying, makes his drink in a mug. "You?"

"Matt is finally moving out this weekend," Liam tells him, holding his hand up for a high five, and Mike happily obliges.

"Nice. You must be stoked to be rid of him at-"

"And Holly. Ugh, she was a nightmare."

"So you getting anyone else in or just going to fly solo for a while?"

"Well, Eloise has been dropping some hints about moving in, but I think it's too soon..."

"Yeah, you're probably right, being together for over a year is definitely too soon to be thinking about living together," Mike teases.

"Shut it you," Liam says playfully. "I just want to be certain. It's a big commitment."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Mike says, even though part of him doesn't really. If he found someone he loved as much as he can tell Liam loves Eloise then he wouldn't let them go. But that's always been his problem: rushing into things, moving too quickly. Maybe he would do better to take things slow.

He slides the full mug across the counter, and Liam picks it up with a, "Cheers. Have a good one."

"You too."

Liam heads off to his usual spot and Mike gets to serving the next customer. They get hit by a sudden rush (Mike suspects they're all from the same tour group, with their _I Heart NY_ t-shirts and various accents) and the rest of his shift flies by.

He's meeting Lola here, so he changes into clean clothes, and orders a coffee from David. There aren't many free seats around, so he heads over to Liam (who has somehow managed to keep all three seats at his little table) and asks, "This seat taken?"

"Hell no," Liam says, looking up from his laptop. "Sit down. Shift over?"

"Yeah, just waiting for someone to meet me here."

"Girlfriend?" Liam asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

Mike laughs. "Don't let her hear you call her that. It's still early days, too early for the G word."

"How long have you been seeing her?"

Mike could tell him exactly (it had been three weeks, four days and sixteen hours since their first date) but settles for the more roundabout answer of, "About a month."

"What's her name? Where'd you meet?"

Mike can't help but chuckle. "Man, you really are Mr Chatty, aren't you?"

"I'm a writer, details are my life."

"Well, her name is Lola, and we met at school," which, again, not the exact details but still correct in a roundabout way. "But enough of me. I didn't know you were a writer." Although he had suspected something along those lines given how often Mike sees him tapping away at his laptop with a coffee in hand. "What do you write?"

"Novels, mainly."

"You must be good, to be able to afford to write full time." Mike sees him here during practically all of his afternoon shifts, so figures he didn’t have other employment. Plus, there's the fact that Mike knows his watch is top of the line and the laptop looks brand new. He's obviously well off.

"Don't know. Haven’t had anything published yet."

"Oh," Mike says, surprised. Maybe he just comes from money. A lot of New Yorkers do.

"And no," Liam says, clearly reading his mind. "I'm not rich. I, uh, I wrote some songs a few years back that did well. The royalties keep me comfortable."

In his tenure at Pearson Hardman Mike did a bit of work in the entertainment world, and he knows the kind of money songwriters make from royalties. He's clearly trying to downplay it (either from embarrassment or modesty) but Mike knows more about royalties than he can let on, so he thinks his songs had to have been massive hit singles or album songs by popular artists, so he's probably heard them.

" _Pleeease_ tell me what they were," Mike says, hands clasped together in the classic begging gesture. 

"Not a chance in hell," Liam laughs.

"I bet they were super pop-y songs, weren't they. You totally wrote songs for Britney, didn't you?"

They're both laughing now, and that's how Lola finds them. Mike smiles up at her, and she simply sits on the arm of his chair, leaning down and kissing him hello.

"What's going on?" she asks, looking between them.

"Nothing," Mike says, trying to calm down. "This is Liam. I'm pretty sure he wrote _If U Seek Amy_."

"The Britney Spears song?" Lola asks as she looks between them, confused, like she can't believe it's true but doesn't want to give offence if it actually is.

"Asshole," Liam says to Mike, who just shrugs. "I'm Liam, you must be Lola," he says, reaching over and shaking her hand. "Ignore everything this loser says about me, it's all lies. And really," Liam turns to Mike, "I'm slightly concerned about your obsession with Britney Spears. You might have to watch this one," he adds to Lola, and she just nods solemnly in agreement.

"Hey, stop ganging up on me," Mike protests, and they all laugh. "Come on," he says, standing. "We should go. See you next time, Liam."

"Keep it real, man," Liam replies, waving at Lola before going back to work.

 

 

 

 

Mike makes it into work early, so he grabs a coffee and even though he really should use the extra time to study for his upcoming exams he decides to give his mind a brief reprieve and instead reads one of the complimentary newspapers that get ignored by their customers most days.

He's really only skimming the articles as he turns the pages, but then something catches his eyes that he can't ignore. There's an article that mentions Harvey, and though part of him wants to close the paper and pretend he never saw it he knows that's an option he would never take. So he surrenders to the inevitable and reads with rapt interest.

Apparently there had been a systematic attempt to siphon money from the accounts of The Robin Hood Foundation, one of the city's biggest charitable organizations. Not only had Harvey helped discover who was responsible, but he helped ensure their accomplices were also brought to justice to suffer the full wrath of the DA (good ol' Terrence Wolf).

The article makes brief mention of Harvey's associate. His name is Bennet Ristov. Mike can't help but wonder what his story is, where he came from, why Harvey chose him to replace Mike, what their relationship is like...

A mixture of pride and anguish rolls through Mike as he reads. He's so happy to hear any news about Harvey, to know he's still out there and doing good, going above and beyond and actually caring despite his claims to the contrary (because reading between the lines of the article he can tell that Harvey was the driving force behind this). He's prepared for the familiar pang, the regret at no longer being part of that life, but it's not as strong as it used to be. It's been over a year since he left - he's actually been gone longer than he was ever there - and he has a new life now, is happy again, and he's finally feeling okay with that distance.

 

 

 

 

The last week of the school year is brutal, with exams and assessments and regurgitating everything he's learnt over the last year. He barely sleeps, keeps cramming for as long as he can, because despite his eidetic memory these kinds of tests aren't necessarily about what you know but how you apply everything you've learned.

But he makes it through, and on the Friday evening he goes out to dinner with Lola, Autumn and Alistair to celebrate.

It's a great night, full of laughter and food and friends, and when they finally make it to bed (they crash at Lola's because it's closer) he is really fucking happy.

 

 

 

 

You wouldn't know it to look at her, but Lola is the best baker he's ever met. It was something her mom taught her when she was younger, and whenever she's covered in flour and sugar she feels that connection to her. 

Mike can relate. He has vivid memories of riding around the city with his parents when he was a kid, and every time he rides his bike he remembers those days.

He wakes late one morning to the smell of chocolate and his mouth waters. He stumbles out of bed and wanders to the kitchen. Lola's still in her pajamas, the cotton shorts and t-shirt covered in flour when she turns and greets him.

Mike smiles, moves into the room, kisses her good morning. She tastes like sugar. 

"Whatchya making?" he mumbles, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Triple chocolate cookies," she replies with a grin.

Mike sneaks a finger into the bowl and steals a taste. She playfully hits him on the back of his hand in admonishment, but immediately softens when he moans in appreciation. "Sooo good," he tells her, and she beams at him.

"Okay, suit man, out of the kitchen."

"Why? It's not like I could mess it up anymore," he laughs, looking around his kitchen. 

Lola doesn’t even bother to look offended. After all, it was she who told him that the messier the kitchen the yummier the outcome. "No, but you are very distracting."

"Oh _really_?" he says, sliding closer, slipping a hand beneath her t-shirt. "Wouldn't want that, would we?"

And he presses his mouth to the side of her neck, dropping gentle kisses there, tongue dipping out to taste. Lola sighs, head tipped back, as he nibbles on her skin. She drops the spoon she's holding onto the bench and spins so she can wrap her arms around him, press her mouth to his in a deep kiss. He meets the embrace with equal ardor, pressing her between the kitchen counter and his body, hand sliding up under her tee.

The cookies, when they are eventually cooked two hours later, are delicious.

 

 

 

 

Being on break from school gives him more free time, but most of the staff at CAU are also students, and there are only so many shifts to go around, so for the first time in almost a year he finds himself with an abundance of time on his hands and unsure what to do with it.

Lola is away for the week (doing family bonding time), and Autumn has gone up to Vancouver to visit Alistair, so after his shift he lingers around the counter, chatting with Katie and Sun when they aren't serving customers. 

It's with relief that he sees Liam come into the shop. "Hey man," he says, surprised, because Liam usually isn't in at this time.

"Mike, hi," he grins. He looks him up and down and sees him not in uniform (well, the branded t-shirts they wear), asking, "Are you not working? Do you love the place so much you just can't leave?"

"Dude, I am _so_ bored," he says, and Liam laughs.

"Come on, let's grab a drink. I'm buying."

So they grab some drinks (a blended mocha for Mike, an iced coffee for Liam – Mike hadn't made one hot drink all shift, summer was well and truly here) before sitting at Liam's usual table.

The conversation flows easily, just as it has since they first met all those months ago. After a good twenty minutes Mike notice's Liam's ever present laptop and realizes something.

"So, you never told me about the novel you're writing. What's it about?"

"Not quite sure yet, which is a problem considering I've been writing it for six months," Liam laughs good-naturedly. "I'm trying to play with the idea of someone being pulled into a situation they aren't prepared for, in this case the high stakes world of art theft, and how they deal with it. It's part thriller part character study. At least, that's the plan. I'm just trying to figure out how to put a bit of a twist on the story so it feels new."

"And how's that working out for you?"

"Not at all," Liam laughs. "I have an idea, it's just trying to keep it feeling credible, you know."

Mike nods in understanding. He tries to find out more details, but Liam doesn’t want to get too specific for fear of jinxing it, which Mike doesn’t necessarily understand but respects.

"Well, if you ever want someone to bounce ideas off, you know where to find me," Mike offers. "I have a knack for shedding new light on situations if you ever get stuck on something."

"Thanks. I'll let you know."

Mike asks about his influences, which leads them to enthusiastic discussions on the merits of Salinger versus Capote, the emphasis on Shakespeare, and the state of the current literary world when people such as Stephanie Meyer and E. L. James can top the bestseller lists.

They are still debating the latter topic (well, not so much debating as thoroughly agreeing and heatedly bemoaning what some people consider literary merit) when Liam's cell rings. He apologizes with a wince as he pulls the phone out of his bag, Mike dismissing the apology with a wave of his hand.

"Hey baby," Liam says, which means it must be Eloise. "That's awesome. Totally. Yeah. I don't mind. Okay, good, sounds like a plan. See you there." He hangs up, puts the phone away. "El got off work early."

"Lucky her."

"We're going to catch a movie. Hey, you should come with."

"Oh no, thanks," he says. Admittedly he has nothing planned for the evening, but he doesn’t want to crash their evening out together. "I should just head home."

"To do what?" Liam asks, and Mike can't come up with an answer. "Come on," he says beseechingly. "You know you want to."

Mike laughs, asks, "What are you seeing?"

"Eloise wants to see _The Internship_ but my vote is for _Much Ado About Nothing_."

"Joss Whedon, nice. That'd get my vote."

"Well, now you have to come," Liam says, and apparently that settles it.

 

 

 

 

Mike's Independence Day plans are brought to an abrupt halt when Lola breaks up with him.

He hadn't seen it coming, but he doesn’t blame her either. Because as much as he likes her, and he really does, he knew she wasn't it for him. And he thinks she must've known that, probably felt it herself, and he doesn't begrudge her wanting to be free to find someone who loved her the way she deserved. 

Because Lola is awesome. And she deserves more than what he could give her.

But that doesn't mean he isn't sad to be losing her. They talked it out like rational adults, and they agreed to be friends. Though he'd balked at the cliché of it all, he actually thinks that they will follow through on it. Because they might not be in love with each other, but they still care about one another, still like one another. They just weren't meant to be.

They were together for three and a half months, and Mike thinks that he deserves a couple of days to mope about it. He had been planning to attend a party one of the girls at work was throwing, but he texts his apologies and spends the weekend on the couch watching a marathon of Roland Emmerich films (because what else says _I love my country_ more than watching it being repeatedly destroyed?).

 

 

 

 

Autumn is missing Alistair, and she begs Mike to come to her place and keep her company (like it was some massive chore for him to go hang out with his best friend). So he rocks up on her doorstep with pizza and ice-cream and she declares her undying love for him, making Mike laugh.

They set up camp on the couch, flick through the TV guide until they come across a M*A*S*H marathon, eating and talking crap like usual. 

Mike can't say why today is any different, why it's now and not one of the hundreds of other days he and Autumn have spent together, but he's suddenly overwhelmed with the need to tell her the truth, to tell her everything. Maybe it's the way she makes him feel warm and safe and home, or because he's sick of lying by omission, or because he doesn't want this one thing to define him anymore, and he figures that a secret only has power when you keep it. 

So when he finishes his ice-cream he puts the bowl aside and says, "Do you remember that first day we met? How I said I didn't know how to be honest?"

Autumn nods slowly, clearly anxious about where this is going.

"I've never lied to you. But I think you know there's a lot I haven't said. But, if you're interested, I think I'm ready to tell you."

Autumn puts her food aside, turns to give him her full attention. "Are you sure? Because I figure there's a reason you've basically avoided talking about that year of your life before I met you. And if you want to keep it secret, that's okay. You don't have to tell me."

"I know, but I want to. I just have one condition." At her nod, he continues with, "You can't tell anyone, not even Alistair. It's just, it involves other people, and if the wrong person found out..."

Autumn pauses, just regards him for a moment. "It's not - you're not in any kind of trouble, are you?"

"No," Mike hastily assures her. "No, it's nothing like that." And he thinks that if all this time she's been imagining that he was on the run from the law or was in trouble with the Mafia or something that the truth is going to be rather anti-climactic.

She seems relieved, and she nods solemnly, saying, "I promise."

Mike takes a moment to gather his thoughts. Now that he's here, now that he's actually telling someone, he kinda doesn’t know where to begin. He figures the best way is to just jump right in with all the gory details.

"Okay, the short version is, the place I worked before I started studying - it was a law firm. I worked there as a lawyer."

"You never told me you went to law school," she says, confused.

"That's because I never did."

He can see her process his statement for a few moments before she takes a deep breath and says, "Okaaay, pretty sure I'm gonna need the long version."

So Mike tells her. Everything. 

 

 

 

 

Liam has a scar along his left arm. Mike noticed it a couple of months back, the first time he saw him in a t-shirt once summer hit, but didn't say anything, didn’t ask about it. Whatever it was from was clearly serious, because the scar is long and thick, and Mike did briefly wonder if it was self inflicted but figured it wasn't any of his business.

But then one day they're chilling together in the coffee shop, like they have been doing at least once a fortnight if not more for the last five months, and Mike is tired from a particularly grueling shift and he's kinda just staring into thin air. Only, when Liam looks between Mike and his arm a few times he realizes his 'thin air' happens to directly line up with Liam's scar. He shakes himself, sits straighter in his chair as he looks apologetically at Liam and says, "Sorry."

"It's fine," Liam immediately assures him. He idly runs a finger along the scar. "Pretty badass, huh?"

Mike chuckles. "Yeah."

"I came home one day to find this guy robbing my apartment-"

"You don't have to tell me," Mike interrupts. Admittedly he was curious, but he didn’t want Liam to be uncomfortable, to feel obligated for to tell him something that would only bring back bad memories.

But Liam dismisses him with a wave of his hand. "It's fine. We're friends right? Friends tell each other this stuff."

And Mike smiles, because they _are_ friends. Which is weird, because they don’t know anything normal friends would know about the other, like where they live or when their birthday is…

"Okay, if you're sure."

Liam nods easily. "Well, like I said, I interrupted someone robbing my apartment. He collided into me as he tried to run out. There was a scuffle. I wasn't really thinking, should've just let him go, but in the moment your brain just shuts down and it's instinctive to try and stop them. Anyway, he had a knife, and he got me, dragged the knife down my inner forearm."

"Fuck," Mike breathes.

"Yeah. It was touch and go there for a while. I lost a lot of blood. There was nerve damage, I couldn't really move my fingers for a while, had to undergo physical therapy to get the movement back. It was hard, not gonna lie, but I'm fine now."

"Did they catch him?"

Liam shakes his head. "It's fine," he says, the sound of someone resigned to the situation. He clearly hasn't held grudge. Mike admires him for that - he definitely held onto things for longer than he should. "And it turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Nothing like a near death experience to clarify what exactly it is you want out of life."

Mike smiles. While he didn't get the life or death situation, he's no stranger to life altering events, and he can totally relate. "I would imagine so."

"I started writing, as soon as I was physically able, and things just kinda snowballed from there."

"Until you ended up writing number one hits for ... Kelly Clarkson?" 

Liam laughs, open and unabashed. "Nice try, man."

"Can't blame me for trying," Mike grins.

"I never do."

 

 

 

 

Before Mike knows it, summer is over and he's heading back to Columbia.

It takes a couple of weeks to readjust to the routine, but he'd actually missed it, and was looking forward to burying his head in his books again.

He's heading to work after class one day, enveloped in the sounds of the city, when he looks up to see a familiar figure walking down the street towards him. He stops practically mid stride, grips the strap of his ever present satchel at his chest, wonders if she'll miss him in the crowd.

She doesn’t.

Rachel sees him when they are about ten metres apart, and he can see his own shock mirrored on her face. But then she smiles, walking towards him with purpose, and Mike can't help but brace himself.

"Mike," she says, smiling happily at him.

"Hey, Rach," he replies cautiously. "How are you?"

"I'm well. You?"

"Yeah. Good." There is an awkward pause, and because it's the middle of a work day Mike asks, "What are you doing here?"

Rachel flushes slightly, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "Going to law school, actually."

"Really?" Mike asks, surprised but genuinely happy for her.

She nods. "Yeah. Since the merger with Darby the whole thing about only hiring from Harvard kinda went out the window, so I'm studying at Columbia and can still work for Pearson Darby when I'm done."

"I hope they kept their promise to pay for it."

Rachel laughs. "They tried to get out of it, saying they'd agreed to pay for _Harvard_ and not _Columbia_ , but would you believe Louis of all people convinced them to pay for it still."

"I can actually," Mike says, because Louis could be staunchly loyal when he wanted to, and Mike knew the truth about what happened with Rachel's Harvard application.

"And what about you?" Rachel asks.

But Mike can't tell her. He feels a fierce defensiveness of his new life, and he needs to keep everything separate. It might be childish, but he doesn't care.

"Oh, you know, this and that."

Rachel furrows her eyebrows at his evasion. "Come on, Mike," she says, playfully. "You can tell me. I'm sure it's not all that bad."

He knows she just means to be friendly, catch up properly, but it all comes flooding back, how her insistence to know his secrets set him on the path he's on now. And he's long since gotten over everything that happened, but he can't help the resentment that bubbles in his chest.

He doesn't want to fight about it, but nor does he want to lie about his life, like he's ashamed or something. Because he's not. He loves his life, is doing well at school, has made some great friends. It's not at all where he thought he'd be at this point in his life, but he's happy, settled, and he refuses to let Rachel disturb that.

"Who's the lucky guy?" he asks instead, figuring it would just be easier to change the focus of the conversation back to her. She blinks at him for a few moments, confused, until Mike nods at her left hand, and the large diamond ring.

"Oh," she says, avoiding his gaze. "His name is Bennet Ristov. He's-"

"Harvey's associate," Mike says, remembering that article from all those months ago. "You're engaged to the guy who replaced me?" he asks, incredulous.

Rachel laughs a little guiltily. "I know, I know. Harvey wasn't too pleased, let me tell you. But he's a good guy. You'd like him."

Mike lets that information roll around in his head for a few moments (it's vaguely perverse, but given how everything went down with him, Rachel and Harvey, it somehow also makes complete sense) before he smiles at her, tells her genuinely, "I'm happy for you, Rach."

"Thank you," she says softly.

"Look, I have to run, or I'll be late for work."

"And that would be where?" she asks, but Mike just laughs, kissing her cheek in farewell.

"Take care, Rachel."

"You too."

Mike starts to walk away, but the temptation to know is too great. He'll never have an opportunity like this again. So he turns and calls Rachel's name. When she turns he just looks at her for a moment, gathering the courage to eventually ask, "How is he?"

He doesn’t specify who he's asking after, but given the way Rachel looks at him (sad and knowing with just a hint of fondness), there's really no need. She looks like she's weighing her words slightly before saying, "He's fine. Good. You know Harvey, conquering the world one day at a time."

Mike nods. It feels strange, to be this close to Harvey, if only in a roundabout way. He could ask her for more details, find out everything, quench that low level desire that constantly hums in his veins to know about Harvey. But it feels like a dangerous path to go down, so he suppresses the desire like he always does, nodding at Rachel with thanks.

"Do me a favor? Don't tell him you saw me." He can tell Rachel wants to object, so he takes a small step forward. " _Please_."

Rachel just looks at him. "If you're sure..."

Mike nods. "I am," he quickly assures her. "Thanks, Rach."

And this time he walks away without looking back.

 

 

 

 

Mike can't be sure if Rachel will keep her word, and for the next few weeks he feels constantly on guard, always looking over his shoulder, half expecting Harvey to pop up out of nowhere.

But he never does, and Mike can't work out if he's relieved or disappointed.

 

 

 

 

Mike has a class with Autumn on the day of his birthday (they had two classes together last year but only one this year) and even though he's pretty sure he only mentioned his birthday to her once, about six months ago, she has somehow managed to remember, throwing her arms around him when he gets to class and pulling a present from her bag.

"You shouldn't have," he tells her, but she just waves him away.

"It's not much, but I couldn't let your birthday pass unmarked."

"Thank you." 

The present, while not particularly large, draws the attention of some of their classmates, and he finds himself on the receiving end of a multitude of well wishes, which uses up all of the time before the lecture starts.

After class they go catch a movie (Autumn lets him choose, so _Sin City 2_ it is) before going for dinner. Alistair calls to say happy birthday, and he gets a text from Lola with a simple 'happy birthday suit man'. Autumn insists they stop for cake on the way back to her apartment, and they watch a Pixar movie before Mike falls asleep on her couch.

It's the best birthday he's had in years.

 

 

 

 

Autumn decides that, despite Mike's protests, she is going to set him up.

She assures him it'll just be a casual thing, and Alistair is down for the weekend, so the four of them can just go out to dinner. Mike tries in vain to protest, but he doesn't really have a leg to stand on, because he and Lola broke up three months ago, and though he's not completely over Harvey (he thinks a part of him never will be) he also knows that he'll never see the man again. So he reluctantly assents.

When Mike gets to the restaurant the three of them are already there. Autumn introduces Mike to Asher (Mike idly wonders if Autumn knows anyone whose name doesn't start with A) and Mike reaches over and shakes his hand before the four of them sit down.

Asher is a lifelong New Yorker, who met Autumn overseas about five years previous, and when she moved to New York they reconnected. He has dark, shaggy hair, and looks to be about mid-twenties. He's dressed neat but casual. He works in the accounts department for the Lincoln Centre. He's smart, attractive, funny...

And Mike feels absolutely nothing.

It's an enjoyable evening, and Mike wouldn’t be opposed to hanging with Asher again in a completely platonic fashion. But there's no spark there, for either of them, so when the evening ends Mike says goodbye and goes home alone.

 

 

 

 

"So, any plans for Thanksgiving?" Liam asks while he waits for Mike to make his coffee.

"Nah," Mike says. 

Autumn was flying to Canada to spend the weekend with Alistair, and thus ended his social circle. But he was fine with it. He'd spent last Thanksgiving holed up in his apartment eating junk food, the one before that was spent working at Pearson Hardman, and the several before that were spent lounging in Trevor's place with take-out and the PlayStation. He hadn't had a traditional Thanksgiving in forever.

"Why not?" Liam asks good-naturedly.

There's a pause as Mike considers his words, and then he tells him, "I don’t really have much of a family. It's fine," he adds, when Liam's face falls. "I'll just crash at home, get some studying in."

"Man, _hell no_. You're coming to dinner with us."

"No," Mike immediately says.

"Relax," Liam says, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Don't worry, it's not a big thing. It's not even on Thanksgiving. Some friends of mine and I always have dinner together on the Wednesday before. It's for those of us who either have no family or have family too far away to spend the holiday with. That includes you, my friend."

Mike's instinct is to say no. The impulse to keep everyone at a distance, to not get too involved because that way lies heartache, it's always there. 

Liam can obviously see his hesitation, and when Mike hands him his drink he grins and says, "Don't worry, it's still two weeks away. That's more than enough time for me to wear you down."

Mike laughs, and he knows whether he wants to or not, he'll be going to that dinner.

 

 

 

 

Mike's running late, feeling harried and out of breath when he makes it to the restaurant. He spots Liam as soon as he walks in the door, heading over to the table. 

"Sorry I'm late," Mike says as soon as he's within earshot, and Liam waves the apology away, standing to shake his hand.

"Don't worry about it. You aren't even the last one here," Liam tells him. "Everyone, this is Mike. Mike, this is everyone."

Mike laughs awkwardly as everyone turns to look at him. He waves, gets a chorus of "Hey" in return, before heading to the foot of the table and the spare seat there. He greets Eloise and she actually introduces him to everyone. Apart from Liam and Eloise there are four other people, and Mike greets them all, before Eloise pulls him into a conversation she and Ravi are having about one of their mutual work colleagues.

Mike's entree is delicious, and everyone is eagerly awaiting their mains when it happens. He's in the middle of a conversation with Heidi about their favorite restaurants in Brooklyn when Mike hears a familiar, "Hey, sorry I'm late."

Mike allows himself a couple of seconds of denial before looking up, eyes flicking to the other end of the table, to see Harvey standing there. The older man's gaze is focused on Liam but after they exchange greetings Harvey looks around and finally sees Mike. His face falls, overcome with shock, and Mike can feel himself returning the expression.

"Mike?"

Mike takes a deep breath, tries to keep his voice calm and even, despite the fact his heart is pounding in his chest and he has to put his hands in his lap so no one sees them shaking slightly. "Hi, Harvey."

The table has descended into silence, everyone looking curiously back and forth between them. Mike, for his part, can't tear his gaze away from Harvey's. He's missed that face.

"You two know each other?" someone (Mike thinks it was Charlie) asks.

"We used to work together," Mike says.

" _Whoa_ ," Liam says, and Mike turns to him. "You're Mike Ross? Harvey's associate with the crazy awesome mind Mike Ross?"

"What is he doing here, Lee?" Harvey asks Liam, and suddenly everything falls into place.

"Wait, _you're_ Harvey's brother?" Mike asks, and Liam just nods, grinning like an idiot, and Mike feels like everything is spinning out of control. 

"Lee?" Harvey presses, and Harvey clearly isn't at all happy to see him, so Mike stands and says he'll leave.

"No, wait Mike," Liam says, standing too. "Let's all just calm down, shall we? Mike, Harvey, sit down, and let's enjoy a nice, calm dinner, okay?"

Mike looks to Harvey to gauge his reaction, and he just nods and sits in the empty chair at the head of the table. Mike slides back into his chair, and tries not to feel too hurt by the way Harvey starts talking to Charlie like Mike isn't even there.

 

 

 

 

When everyone has finished their main courses Liam decides they should all say what they are thankful for, but to keep things interesting, "One of them has to be serious, and the other as silly as you like."

Everyone chuckles, and before anyone can agree or disagree to these terms Liam says, "I'll start. I'm thankful for my big brother, who has supported me our whole lives. I wouldn't be the frankly amazing person you see before you without him. And I'm thankful for Eloise setting our kitchen on fire, because I now know how to be a fire fighter." The table erupts in laughter, while Eloise buries her face in her hands, embarrassed. Liam leans over and presses a kiss to her temple before saying, "Okay El, your turn."

So Eloise gives her thanks, and they all take it in turns. Mike smiles the whole time, loves hearing everyone's random thoughts as they give thanks for things as simple as a neighbor who doesn’t password protect their wifi and as amusing as the sexposition in _Game of Thrones_.

When it's Mike's turn, he doesn't know what to say. His eyes briefly flick across the table to Harvey. They'd been doing that basically every few minutes since Harvey arrived, and sometimes when he looked at Harvey it was to discover the older man already gazing down the table at him. The whole group was looking at him, but all that mattered was Harvey, the way he held his gaze, the ache in Mike's chest when their eyes met.

"I'm thankful for the people who risked more than I can say and took a chance on me. Whether it worked out or not, it doesn’t matter. The initial act was more than enough, more than I could ever repay, and despite the outcomes I'll always be grateful. I'm also thankful for peanut butter M&Ms."

When Mike chances a look at Harvey there is a small smile playing at his lips. Mike suddenly remembers one evening, working in Harvey's office, both of them slightly loopy in the midnight hour and throwing peanut butter M&Ms across the room at each other. Mike wonders if Harvey's remembering that night too. But then Cody starts talking, and he turns his attention to him.

Harvey is last, and he tries to get out of it, but Liam pulls the brother card out. Harvey chuckles, gives him a smile Mike has never seen before. Mike had only heard him talk about his brother a couple of times, but he had heard the affection in his voice, and now he's seeing it first hand, the way Liam needles him, how Harvey gives in with an indulgent smile. It's a side to Harvey that Mike has never known, and he wants to see more of it.

And Mike is suddenly overwhelmed with all those feelings he's spent the last year and a half trying to ignore. He fucking missed Harvey, every day, and he has no idea how he's going to be able to walk away after tonight. Even though he hates the analogy it really does feel like getting a hit of his favorite vice after a lifetime of abstinence, and he doesn’t know how he's going to go forward after this. Because he's purposely kept his distance from Harvey, but now the universe has thrown them into the same room and there is no going back from that. There's no way he can cut Harvey off again now that they've reunited. 

But maybe it's too late. Maybe Harvey doesn’t even care. Maybe Harvey still wants nothing to do with him, and his worry about Harvey seeking him out is all for nothing.

Mike is so caught up in his own thoughts he doesn’t even hear what Harvey is thankful for, is only pulled back to the present when their waitress appears with everyone's desserts.

Mike eats slowly, answers whenever he's asked a question, but he's finding it increasingly difficult to be so close to Harvey and not be able to talk to him. Really talk to him. This whole time they haven’t really exchanged a word, the closest they've come being when the whole table got into a debate about the merits and cost/benefit ratio of the New York City Marathon. But Harvey hasn't sought him out, made any kind of effort to bridge the gap between them, so Mike remains rooted in his seat.

After dessert Ravi and Heidi sneak outside for a smoke, and Liam plops down beside Mike in Ravi's vacated seat.

"So," Mike says, "you're the famous Lee Specter."

Liam laughs. "Well, it's still Liam, only Harvey calls me Lee. But it's funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you."

Mike tries not to think about the implications that Harvey had talked about him to his brother, but he doesn't succeed. He struggles to wrap his mind around the idea that Harvey told Liam about him, must've more than once based on Liam's reactions. He wonders what they talked about, but decides now is not the time to ask.

"So you really didn’t know?" Mike can't help but ask, because he knows it's a small world, but this is ridiculous.

"That you were the same Mike who worked for big bro? Of course not. How could I? I didn't even know your last name, remember," Liam nudges him playfully, and Mike chuckles. "Why, does it matter?" he continues, suddenly serious again. "If I had known and told you Harvey was my brother would you have come here tonight?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Mike admits.

A moment of silence settles between them, but it's still easy, just like it's always been. He had that with Harvey from the start too, an instant connection, and Mike idly wonders what it is about the Specter men that pulls him in.

He chances a glance at Harvey to find that he's watching the two of them, face unreadable. And strangely it's knowing that Harvey is watching that gives Mike the strength to keep going. It emboldens him, and he can still feel Harvey's gaze on them when he turns back to Liam.

"When I said we worked together," Mike murmurs, "you immediately knew _exactly_ who I was."

Liam nods, shifting slightly closer and speaking in hushed tones. "Harvey told me about you, when you were working together. He told me the truth about your background, why he hired you."

"What did he say?" Mike asks before he can stop himself. It's too tempting, to get this insight. He doesn’t think anyone would blame him for asking.

"You know Harvey," Liam says, and doesn’t that seemingly innocent statement just cut Mike to the bone. "It's not always what he says that's most important. Sufficed to say, I knew you were important to him, and he didn’t take your leaving too well."

Mike can't help but scoff. "He wanted me to go," he points out. "He said he never wanted to see me again."

"I know," Liam says, and Mike wonders what else he knows about that last conversation they had. "I also know that he was lying."

 

 

 

 

Harvey is the first to leave.

The table is enveloped in loud chatter and Mike and Ravi are talking but the movement from the corner of his eye of Harvey standing from the table catches his attention. He looks over to see Harvey saying goodbye to Liam with a kiss pressed to the top of his head and Eloise reaching over to squeeze his hand in farewell. Harvey briefly looks down the table at Mike, and their eyes meet for a few quick moments before Harvey shrugs on his coat and walks out the door.

Mike is paralyzed by indecision. Part of him is desperate to go after him, to seize this opportunity, to see if there is any way he can reconnect to Harvey. Because now that he's seen him again, he wonders if they could still fit into each other's day to day lives, and he can't stop his imagination from conjuring scenarios like Harvey stopping by CAU for a coffee or going out for drinks after Harvey gets off work or meeting for dinner, he and Harvey with Liam and Eloise.

Because for all that he fell in love with Harvey, for all that he misses learning from Harvey as his boss, what he misses most is his friendship. 

But Mike can still hear the last words Harvey ever spoke to him rolling around in his mind, still feels the hurt as acutely as he felt it that day, is still mad at Harvey for cutting him off. And he doesn't know if he would just be inviting more pain by seeking Harvey out.

Mike looks to Liam, desperate for some advice, and Liam just nods at him across the table. Mike lets out a shuddering breath, mouths _thank you_ , and after a quick goodbye delivered to the table at large he grabs his coat and rushes out of the restaurant into the cool city air.

He expects to have lost Harvey in the crowds. But what he gets is something he could never even conceive: Harvey, standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, seemingly waiting for him.

"Hey," Mike says, closing the gap between them. It feels so surreal to be talking to him after all this time. His heart is beating a wild tattoo in his chest, nerves flooding easily throughout his body. But underneath that there is warmness, a tickling of happiness sitting in his stomach at finally being within reaching distance of the person he still loves most in the whole world.

"Hello, Mike," Harvey replies, and his tone is neutral, his face guarded, and Mike doesn't know what's going to happen.

"You heading home?" he asks, even though that sounds like something to end a conversation and not begin one. But it's been so long, he doesn't know how to navigate this. Harvey nods, and Mike barely asks, "Can I walk-?" before Harvey says yes and they start walking in the direction of Harvey's condo.

Mike has imagined their reunion hundreds of times, with dozens upon dozens of scenarios crossing his mind. But now that it's actually happening, all the words he had in his head leave him, and he doesn't know what to say.

Harvey isn't talking either, and Mike can't just keep walking in silence, so he opens the conversation by saying, "Liam's great."

That smile is back, and Mike wants to keep Harvey smiling, always. "He's the best."

"Small world, huh?" Mike laughs lightly, relieved when Harvey joins in.

But then silence descends once more, and Mike doesn't know what to say. He can feel the walls between the two of them, and he wants to knock them down brick by brick. But it's been so long. He doesn't know where or, just as importantly, how to start.

"How've you been?" Harvey asks, tentatively, and when Mike looks at him it occurs to him for the first time that maybe Harvey feels as lost as he does.

And Mike can't do this. He can't do this polite, tentative, talk around the issue or pretend like it never happened thing. Because it did, and Mike knows that they both fucked up, but walking down the street together as they've done a thousand times before, he can't dance around this anymore. If Harvey is still pissed at him, if he still wants nothing to do with him, then fine. He'll respect that. He'll be devastated, but he'll respect it and walk away. But if not, if Harvey wants to maybe resolve this, then Mike just needs to know.

"Look, Harvey," Mike says, pulling on his arm so he stops walking and faces him. "Just tell me. Are you still angry about everything? I know I messed up, okay, believe me, I know. I've had plenty of time to ruminate on all my mistakes. But you fucked up too. We're both to blame for what happened. But I want to fix things, and if you don’t then you need to tell me before we go any further."

Mike's breathless from his pronouncement (not to mention the nerves creeping in that he won't get the answer he wants) and the words settle between them. He can't read Harvey's face anymore, so he has no idea what's coming next.

"I'm sorry," Harvey says, and that was so not what Mike was expecting to hear. "I can't believe you actually believed me when I said I never wanted to see you again. I was pissed, which I still maintain I had every right to be, but I overreacted and I'm sorry."

Mike reaches over and wraps his hands around Harvey's arms. " _I'm so sorry_ ," he tells him earnestly, and he can feel the regret prickling at his eyes. Because he did this. Yes, Harvey overreacted, but Mike was the one who fucked up in the first place, _he_ was the one who cut and run. He's regretted that decision many times since he left, but he's never felt it more acutely than he does in this moment.

Harvey nods in acknowledgement, and Mike steps back, lets his hands fall back to his sides. "When I found out you quit," Harvey begins, and it's the cue to keep walking down the street, "I was still too pissed to care. But after a few days, when I started to calm down, I got angry for a completely different reason. I wanted to call, try and talk through it, but I couldn’t find the courage to pick up the phone and dial."

"You did eventually," Mike says, remembering that missed call.

"Only took a month," Harvey smiles, which Mike returns. "But you didn't pick up. I figured you didn't want to talk to me."

"I was in the shower. And you didn’t leave a message."

"You didn't call back," Harvey says, and Mike stops the one up-manship because he knows he'll lose. "And when I called again a few days later, the number was disconnected. So I went to your place, but you'd moved."

"Like you couldn't have found me if you wanted to," Mike says, and he suddenly realizes that when he purposely cut everyone off part of him had been hoping that it wouldn’t matter, that Harvey would find him anyway. But he never did.

"You're right. I could have."

There's something significant about the way Harvey says it, and he rolls the statement over in his mind a few times. It takes a few seconds, but when he realizes he breaks into laughter. "Oh my God, you totally got Vanessa to spy on me, didn't you?" he asks, knocking Harvey's shoulder playfully so he knows he has no hard feelings.

"Maybe," Harvey admits with a smile, and it suddenly feels like old times. Harvey is looking at him, open and free, and he wants this back, has missed this with every fiber of his being. But then Harvey's smile fades, and it's serious again. "But I figured if you had changed your number and moved apartments then you probably didn’t want to be found, at least, not by me. My number hadn't changed, and I knew that big brain of yours would never forget it, so I figured that if … when you were ready to talk, you knew my number. But you never called. I may have gotten _slightly_ anxious about you, so I asked Vanessa to check if you were okay. I told her not to tell me where you lived or what you were doing or how to get in contact with you. I tried to respect the boundaries you clearly wanted. I just wanted to know you were okay. And she said that you were. She said you were happy."

"I am," Mike tells him, and Harvey looks relieved to hear it directly from Mike. "I have a good place, good friends. I'm not in any trouble, not taking drugs or anything. I'm doing okay."

"I'm glad," Harvey says, holding his gaze for a moment before looking away. "So, what _have_ you been doing with your life?"

So Mike tells him about school, about Autumn, about his job at CAU and how he and Liam became friends. Harvey in turn tells him about life at Pearson Darby, how the new managers are all assholes who don’t understand the Harvey Specter genius ("Big surprise," Mike says with a grin), about his associate, about Donna's elopement with Jamie Cohen (hotel entrepreneur extraordinaire), about the renovations he's doing to his condo.

It would be a lie to say it felt like nothing had changed, but it wasn't as bad as Mike feared it could be. They end up taking the long way to Harvey's place, purposely going blocks out of their way just to give themselves more time, and as such they walk and talk for hours. 

Mike can feel it, the attraction he has to Harvey. It still hums in his veins but he tries his best to ignore it. Because this wasn't about his feelings for Harvey. It's about the possibility of repairing their fractured friendship, and he isn’t going to let unrequited feelings get in the way of that.

They're a few blocks from Harvey's place when it happens. Mike gets the sense Harvey wants to say something, and he figures that after everything that happened they need to be open with each other, so he asks, "What is it?"

Harvey looks like he's debating with himself, and he eventually pulls on Mike's arm, drags them from the center of the sidewalk so they're standing against some random shopfront.

"Didn't you ever wonder why I was so mad at you?" Harvey asks, kind of incredulously bemused, and it's the first time since the very start of their conversation several hours ago that the events of those last few days have been broached.

"Because of what I did?" Mike says, an unintended question, because what other explanation could there be? He thought it was fairly obvious really, but the way Harvey's acting makes him start to think that maybe there's more to it.

"When Donna destroyed that memo, I was pissed. But I didn't fire her. Not like I tried to with you."

"Okay," Mike says, drawing the word out as he considers Harvey's words. But he still doesn't get it.

Harvey huffs out a sigh, and it's so familiar that Mike wants to laugh and smile but there's something else going on here, so he holds himself back. "I cared about you," Harvey says, voice low, like it's physically painful to say the words. At Mike's dumbfounded expression he elaborates with, "I cared about you more than I cared about Donna. I cared about you more than everyone, idiot brothers aside."

Mike can't look away from Harvey's gaze, but he still doesn't get it. He tries to, looks at it from every conceivable angle, but nothing makes sense. Harvey is staring at him like he desperately wants Mike to figure it out and when it's obvious that Mike can't, Harvey rolls his eyes and steps forward, hands to Mike's face before he leans in and kisses him.

It doesn't feel real, the slide of their lips, the way Mike automatically reaches out, hands grasping at his lapels to keep him in place. The crisp night air has made their skin cold and lips chapped but it doesn't matter, because Harvey's lips move against his and Mike opens his mouth to deepen the kiss and it's everything he's ever wanted.

But then reality catches up, and Mike pulls away, physically steps back from Harvey. Now that the moment's over he's angry and more than a little confused.

"What, so you liked me? _That's_ why you fired me? That was why you never wanted to see me again?" Mike demands answers, because he's fucking overwhelmed and he thinks answers are the only way to stop his head from spinning.

"What I'm saying is that I was mad, because you hurt me in a way that _no one else_ in the world could have. I reacted badly, obviously, and I'm sorry."

Mike could stay mad, but what would be the point. Because he was the one who started them on this path. Everything that happened was his own fucking fault, and he can't blame Harvey for reacting the way he did.

"Didn't _you_ ever wonder why I told Rachel our secret in the first place?" Mike asks with a smile, deliberately echoing Harvey's statement. Harvey shrugs, so Mike tells him. "Because I felt like I'd lost you. What happened with Rachel that day, telling her and sleeping with her, it wasn't really about her at all. It was me reeling from losing someone I loved and, as always, not dealing with it in an appropriate way. It was never really about her at all. It was about us. Everything was _always_ about us."

Harvey kisses him again, surging forward with an almost violent intensity. Mike takes the kiss as his due, his lips forming a faint smile which Harvey kisses away.

"Do you wanna come back to my place?" Harvey asks against his mouth.

But Mike pulls back, shaking his head. Harvey looks vaguely hurt, so Mike quickly wraps his arms around his neck, keeps him close.

"I shouldn't. Don't get me wrong, I really _really_ want to. But we haven’t seen each other in nearly two years and this evening has been kinda intense and I think we should just step back and take a breath. I don’t want to rush into something either of us will regret. Given everything that's happened, if this is something you want - and for the record, _I really fucking do_ \- then we should go slow. But I'll tell you what," he says, pressing his lips to Harvey's. The older man returns the embrace, and Mike uses the distraction to slide his fingers under Harvey's coat, to pull his cell phone from his coat pocket. He breaks their kiss, stepping back enough to give himself room to punch his number into Harvey's phone. When done, he holds the phone out for Harvey to take, and he does, both hands wrapping around Mike's and keeping him there. "You have my number now. You can call me. If you want."

Harvey smiles slightly. "If I call, will you pick up this time?"

Mike grins, leaning over and kissing him. "Yes."


End file.
